


eternal fakes

by emmamere



Series: a gathering of abnormalities (hxh) [6]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Bisky is lesbian, F/F, Female Homosexuality, Homophobia, Lesbian Character, fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:13:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmamere/pseuds/emmamere
Summary: Years before her debut, Bisky finds what might just be the perfect gem.





	eternal fakes

A seventeen year-old Biscuit Krueger sighed, impatiently tapping her foot on the marble floor of the cafe. She was sure that it had been over eight minutes since she had ordered her coffee. This was absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

Just as her small nose had begun to crinkle in disgust, a waitress distributed a cup of steaming coffee. Grumbling profanities under her breath, Bisky accepted the drink with an abundance of sugar.

"Is it to your liking, ma'am?" The waitress, whose whimsical voice possessed an oddly familiar lilt, questioned.

Dropping in the cubes individually, the girl's mouth fell to the floor when she realized who her server was.

"T-the hell?! I know you from my old school!" Bisky growled and ran her eyes down her waitress. Damn.

She almost salivated. The girl, at least to her standards, was hot. Waist-length bubblegum colored hair, entrancing cerulean eyes, and - most noticeable - a fine good body, Bisky had never seen one quite as attractive as this gem.

"Bisky, was it?" Raising a finger to her lips - the blonde wished she could taste them - she bent over Bisky's table, her thighs just barely rubbing the edge. "I'd really prefer it if you kept this a...secret."

Breath caught in her throat, Bisky nodded, devouring the sight. "Of course..." She paused, remembering that she knew the girl' image but not her name.

With a bit of a wink, her waitress whispered, "Cookie Klemm, doll." 

Bisky felt a blush creep onto her cheeks - from the pet name or from the way Cookie's tone had dropped seductively while saying it, she knew not. The temperature of her beverage was rapidly decreasing; however, something else was beginning to gain momentum. 

Swallowing her lust, Bisky replied, "What an odd name."

Cookie grinned and, with one delicately polished finger, began swirling the coffee slowly. The motion in its simplicity was enough to make her gasp.

"Not any odder than yours." It was barely audible, just more than a wisp of breath, yet held omnipotent power over the girl.

Cookie's stirring intensified, and Bisky found herself mesmerized. 

"The coffee is free, doll, but in exchange, I request a phone number." She licked her lips - voluminous and lush. "Yours."

Bisky shivered under Cookie's scrutiny. She could feel the girl's azure gaze inspecting her from every angle, and the worst - or best - part was that she enjoyed it.

"How did you know?" 

Glancing at Bisky's copy of the recent issue of Kogura Girls, Cookie answered, "Your magazine. Bishounen-esque cover, but that couldn't be any further from the truth." She casually flipped through pages upon pages of lesbian material. "You see, I only know because I've read my fair share."

An incoherent squeak escaped Bisky, the blush illuminating her entire face. 

"So then," Cookie displayed her arm - flawless skin devoid of mark, she noted - for the other's inspection. "I'd like your number written here, please. In a big, fat marker."

She promptly reached into the pockets of her work skirt, demonstrating to Bisky what exactly a big, fat marker was. 

"Make it real obvious. Can't disappoint lovely onlookers." Cookie motioned towards the other customers - and some employees - who had been quietly eavesdropping on their encounter. 

Bisky, evidently shied by the curious stares of the others, hesitated, the marker hovering over perfect skin. She would not allow herself to succumb to total dominance; she had a fragment of dignity left, and she was determined to preserve it.

She quite enjoyed the submissive façade. The girl relished in the lies she told and the blind ignorance of others. One might say that it fueled her. However, in true submission, she felt legitimately vulnerable, and unbearably weak. She despised the fact that she was being led like a simple child to a piece of candy. 

"Come on, doll." There was a tap to Bisky's shoulder that lingered longer than necessary. Cookie's scent - subtle vanilla - leaked into her nostrils. 

But the candy was so sweet. 

The act was soon complete, and Bisky almost choked on her embarrassment. Only the giddy joy and desire surpassed her shame. The mere infatuation overpowered any sense of self-respect that she possessed. 

The previously quaint cafe erupted in applause. Cookie's smirk seemed to expand as the frictious sound ricocheted off the walls. It rung in Bisky's ears, and the noise pained her, however she soon found that she no longer cared. 

When the clapping finally subsided, and passerby had returned to their neglected orders, another waitress - presumably Cookie's superior - nudged her shoulder impatiently. 

"Oi, you shameless flirt, you have a job." 

Cookie giggled, clasping eloquently painted fingers over glossed lips in mock surprise. 

"Yes, yes." She gave a fluid motion for dismissal before continuing with Bisky. 

The same hand - littered with polka dots - caressed Bisky's soft cheek in a gesture that was inexplicably frightening, gentle, and passionate. "Now then, Bi - su - ke," Cookie articulated every syllable, savoring the name. "I'll be seeing you soon."

The tone of her eyes, bottomless pools of ocean blue, seemed to reflect in Bisky's own. Twinkling stars had been exchanged. 

\---

Bisky, even as a a teenager - and many years before - was, by no means, stupid. In fact, she considered herself rather sophisticated. Having been unwillingly self-sufficient for several years, that much was necessary if she wanted to survive in such a world. Especially if she wasn't accepted, and she wasn't. 

The translucence of the concept of inacceptance was evident to her by the time she had enrolled back in her private all-girls' school at fifteen. Traumatized by her past and uncharacteristically erratic, she became unable to remain keeping her sexuality a secret. Bullied and ostracized, Bisky left with one goal in mind; reigning in her desires and completely detaching from all members of society of which interaction was not vital. After all, she would be missed by no one. She was merely an unwanted, forgotten, castaway, lesbian. 

And, with this in mind, she denied herself Cookie - or more so the very idea of Cookie, of someone who wanted to connect to her. Bisky convinced herself that the other girl had neglected the numbers scaling her arm, perhaps moved on to another needy girl.

Those dreamy eyes were a familiar yet foreign beauty, and the very thought - love - was forbidden to the blonde. She was aware of the fickleness of the young mind - maybe even experienced it herself - and knew that young infatuation was always indefinite. 

That is precisely why Bisky was so unbearably shocked to feel, again, the skin - the essence - of Cookie on her, surrounding her, enveloping her. The mirage had been caught, and it was not fictional. 

If anything, she might have expected a lazy lust in the pink-haired girl, reaching out to the other for no reason other than noncommittal intimacy. Although it was rare, Bisky had self-confirmed that it was imaginable. But this touch, it was beyond...that. Cookie had not expected anything at all, and instead seemed to be content with cuddling Bisky. 

The two had ventured on a date to a nearby restaurant. Cookie had spared no expense - she came from an esteemed family, Bisky discovered. She had also spared none of Bisky's fragile pride, decorating their dinner with frequent romantic gestures and remarks. However, this did not result horribly, as only a few glances and even an encouraging thumbs-up were sent her way. 

Bisky found herself thoroughly enjoying the evening, and she couldn't say that she had 'thoroughly enjoyed' anything after the accident. She could almost envision Cookie's elegant nails painting the marker that signified the new stage in her life. 

She had never felt so alive, even after, when instead of returning to her own dwelling, Cookie had followed her home. Presuming that the other desired what she feared so, a fraction of Bisky's hope diminished, wondering if the lovely interactions the two had shared - the shimmering stars - were nothing but buildup to Cookie's goal. 

When Cookie had reappeared from the bathroom, engulfed in enormous pajamas that - quite literally - depicted several varying types of cookies, Bisky had laughed, a sweet, tinkling sound that the blue-eyed girl was glad to hear. It wasn't forced, despite the anxious tremble encompassing the small frame. Cookie could sense the fear residing in the blonde, afraid of the apparent fickleness of their love. Of eventually being forgotten. 

Smiling, Cookie said, "Doll, those clothes are adorable, but I'm afraid that you can't sleep in them. You'll need some pajamas."

Bisky blinked, uncertain, then nodded. "By pajamas, do you mean..." She bit her lip, eyes fixated on a miniscule stain on the floor of her apartment.

[I] I wonder how that got there? How, how, how, how... 

"Do you want...you know?" Fuschia eyes raised to meet ceruleans. 

Cookie pretended to ponder the question, a finger to her chin. "Are you a virgin?"

Overcome with anxiety, Bisky refrained from answering. 

[I]Honestly, how did that stain get there? 

"Don't worry, I am too." Cookie smacked her lips. "Untainted."

Bisky's eyes widened, and she stared at the girl in shock. 

"Besides, I wouldn't want to reach that point on the first date. That'd ruin it." After a brief pause, she continued. "But anyone could tell that you're craving human contact, so I figured we'd sleep together."

Bisky, in a quite submissive manner,  began to blush furiously. 

"I'll get my nightgown!"

\---

With Bisky's small, sleeping face lying directly beside hers, Cookie whispered, "I'm sorry."

Pursing her lips, she said nothing more, and silence filled the bedroom. 

"For what?" Heavy-lidded eyes slowly opened. 

Cookie averted her gaze, hesitant. Bisky found her curiosity increasing. 

"St. Alga's," the reply was short and concise. 

Bisky's shoulders tensed, and Cookie prepared herself for rejection. Rejection that she surely deserved. 

"What about St. Alga's? You never bullied me. I didn't even know your name." Bisky's fingers rubbed down Cookie's arms soothingly, as if she were a small child. 

"But..." Cookie's voice was low and uncharacteristically timid. "I never helped you, and I should have. I was a coward...I thought that they would do the same to me."

Bisky contemplated it, but only momentarily. 

"T-the hell are you doing?!" Cookie whined in between giggles. "B-bisky!"

"Tickling you!" The blonde grinned amiably. 

Cookie squirmed in discomfort. "K-kyaa, stop it!"

"HAHAHAHAHA," Bisky's laugh was maniacal and, quite frankly, disturbing. 

The next morning, Cookie found herself in an uncommon position - head nestled under Bisky's chin. Tch. Had the pink-haired girl surrendered her façade to submission? 

\---

Cookie, contrastively, considered herself stupid, and extremely so. Why be a lesbian in a rigid, orthodox family that had already abandoned her to an arranged marriage? Why pursue a doll that she couldn't keep? 

Perhaps it was to regain dominance of her own self. Lost in a world of monotone gray, she felt unsure and insecure. How could she accept who she was if the vibrant colors of her sexuality painted her life of whites and blacks, of predetermined outcomes? The colors and shades would melt together until she found herself blinded. 

It was with this in mind that Cookie did not resist her parents when they announced her imminent marriage. Instead, she became the messenger to her girlfriend - whose six year anniversary had recently passed. Unfortunately, there would be no seventh year. 

And so, to protect their own feelings, the cookie and the doll severed all contact, detaching themselves from their only source of life. The façades that they had created from the ashes had just crumbled, but now they would be revived. For the two girls, their façades would be eternal. 

Overwhelmed with loneliness, Bisky aspired to become a hunter - for no other purpose than to fill her time. At the age of twenty-four, she was a licensed gem hunter with a Nen ability that mirrored her former girlfriend. 

However, the Nen Cookie that she had created paled in comparison to the real. Her eyes contained a certain dullness, a superficial tone. That was the same for all of the gems Bisky had collected, every beautiful one.

**Author's Note:**

> My dumb backstory for Bisky and her nen girl.
> 
> I highkey wanted to tag 'canon lesbian character' bc it's she's,,,almost there???


End file.
